as a bird... Is this life the pillor I must bear? To grow in this wretched world? ...With hate each day I burn... The birds above, they ride the winds And
Oversættelse: Agalloch. Af Stone, vind og Pillor.
and all the milky sky, And all that famous harmony of leaves, Had blotted out man's image and his cry. A girl arose that had red mournful lips And seemed
[Instrumental]
flesh and bone turn to ash Tried to conquer the sun with a Christian frost The corpses' stench beneath the cross Give them gold and they'll save your soul And
a bird... Is this life the pillor I must bear? To grow in this wretched world? ...With hate each day I burn... The birds above, they ride the winds And
